


Five Times Tony Stark Nearly Died (And One Time He Did)

by StrangeMischief



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-10-26 11:04:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20741171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangeMischief/pseuds/StrangeMischief
Summary: The overflowing power of the gauntlet scorched into Tony’s arm, and he grit his teeth against the stomach curling scent of burning flesh.He was going to die.





	Five Times Tony Stark Nearly Died (And One Time He Did)

**Author's Note:**

> As always, enjoy :3

_ Five Times Tony Stark Nearly Died (And One Time He Did) _

Someone was wailing.

Dim lights swung wildly above Tony’s eyes, blinding him each time they swung over his face. Gruff voices, thick with accents as foreign words rolled off their tongues, rumbled in the background, but Tony could barely hear them.

Someone was howling.

His skin was burning. It was sticky. His chest felt cold. It was slimy. His fingers and toes were numb. His head was throbbing, and his ears rang to the point where he could hardly focus on anything except the pounding rush that swamped his head.

That, and the shrieking.

A face, dirty and adorned with smudged glasses, appeared in Tony’s line of sight. “You’ll live,” he assured, his voice echoing and distant despite being inches from his face. “You’ll make it.”

Tony hoped he died.

\---

There was poison in his veins. He was dying.

Tony had long since accepted that.

But Jarvis…Jarvis was beginning to get nervous. Jarvis was nervous, but was forbidden from letting Pepper or Rhodey know, so he did the only thing he could do.

He pestered Tony constantly.

He left news and magazine articles about up and coming doctors open on the mainframe, stubbornly reopening them after Tony diminished them. He'd text Tony laundry lists of vitamins and herbs to try every time the secret stock in the lab fridge got low. He piled links to new research ventures into Tony’s inbox, sneakily moving them back out of junk after Tony defiantly marked them spam. 

Jarvis was concerned, terrified even, for Tony’s wellbeing.

Tony anticipated it was his time.

\---

It was dark. One would think that he, a man of science, would have so much more to think as he rocketed into space. But as the somber blue of the portal receded and disappeared out of his sight and the rocket slipped from his shoulders, all Tony could think was that it was dark.

It was dark and, if he were a betting man, he’d say he’d never know what light was again.

\---

Once Tony’s ears stopped ringing with the shrill of vibranium slicing through his suit, there was silence. There was silence, and the snow was stunning. It fluttered beautifully through the purpling sky with a lazy ease Tony wished he could possess. Perhaps he could in another time; in another life.

Steve’s boots scraped along the ground as he stood from where he’d sat on Tony’s body. The silence was broken. The twisted remnants of the Iron Man armor creaked and groaned in protest. The frozen concrete below was painted with crimson arches with each heavy step Steve took, retreating from Tony’s body.

Friday’s frenzied voice crackled through the shambled earpiece, continuing to ruin the silence by demanding he stay alert while she called for a medic.

Tony ignored her in favor of watching the snow.

The circumstances weren’t ideal by far, but the location was a rather nice place to go.

\---

Cool fingers ran across Tony’s abdomen methodically, unflinching as he whined in protest at the sting of cleaning fluid. “It’s worse,” Nebula stated evenly, her dark eyes emotionless. “It’ll get infected soon. Without proper supplies, you will die soon.”

“Thanks for the pep talk, Smurfette,” Tony grit out, fingernails digging into the harsh metal table below. “Are you finished with those stitches yet?”

Nebula nodded sharply, pulling Tony’s shirt down and helping him into a sitting position, before raising an arm to prevent him from standing and leaving the table. “Contrary to what you may think, I don’t want you to die, Stark,” she grumbled, her words more human than any time Tony had heard her speak in the weeks they’d been adrift together. “You may. But I don’t want you to.”

Tony smiled weakly and whispered his thanks.

That night when he slipped off, he, as always, prayed he wouldn’t wake the following morning.

\---

The overflowing power of the gauntlet scorched into Tony’s arm, and he grit his teeth against the stomach curling scent of burning flesh.

He was going to die.

He was going to die, and he thought of Morgan, sleeping soundly miles away, unaware that her parents were fighting for her future. He thought of Pepper, who stood by him so long and had finally, finally, gotten the quiet life together she’d wanted. He thought of Peter, warm and overflowing with life who finally got the hug he’d wanted, not knowing it’d be the only one. Tony thought of Rhodes and Happy. Of Steve and Bruce. Of Clint and Thor.

He thought of the world that would emerge from this war. A world that was stronger, fiercer. A world he desperately wanted to be a part of. He thought of birthdays, and graduations, and daddy-daughter dances, and weddings – of things he would miss. He thought of Pep with grey hair, of Morgan with braces, of Peter, packing up to go to MIT, or Columbia, or Podunk Community College for all he cared – of all the things he’d never see.

Tony thought of it all and wanted nothing more than to live.


End file.
